Soon the electrical wires will grow heavy under the snow. I am thinking of fire of the possibility of fire & then moving Across America in a car with a powder blue dashboard, Moving to country music & the heart Is torn a little more because the song says the truth. Because in the thirty-six things that can happen To people, men & women, women & women, Men & men, in all these things the soul is bound To be broken somewhere along the line, That clove-scented, air-colored wanderer blushing With no memory, no inkling & then proceeds Across America In the sap green of the tropics, Toward the cadmium of a bitter sunrise to a new age, At the white impossible ice hour, starving, Past the electric blue of the rivers melting down, Above the nude, snuff, terra cotta, maybe fire, Over the tiny fragile mound of finger bones Of an Indian who died standing up, Through the heliotrope of a song about the sunset, To live the thirty-six things & never comes home.
From A Hunger by Lucie Brock-Broido, published by Alfred A. Knopf. Copyright © 1988 by Lucie Brock-Broido. Reprinted by permission of the publisher and author. All rights reserved.
Lucie Brock-Broido served for many years as the director of poetry in the writing division of Columbia University's School of the Arts.
Date Published: 1988-01-01
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/real-life